Strange Inheritance
by Vecturist
Summary: What if the crew of Atlantis weren't the only people from Earth in the Pegasus galaxy? How will both they and their guests react, especially when one of them harbors a troubling secret? Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is my first attempt at fiction, although I've been thinking about some of the plot elements for awhile. That said and this being fiction, I've taken a couple liberties from a few episodes of SG-1 to tie up a few loose ends. I'm going to try and keep this in first person for one of the characters. I realize that I'm only borrowing most of the major characters – I'll put them back –eventually. Kyte Randall and Major Andrews are mine.

The first two chapters may be a little long, since I have this bad tendency to really try and set the scene. I also realized that after I wrote the first three chapters I was using song lyrics/song titles. I'll try and keep it up.

Synopsis: What if the Atlantis crew weren't the only humans from Earth in the Pegasus galaxy? How would the crew of Atlantis react, especially if these guests were at cross-purposes

Spoilers/Timeline: Spoilers for SG-1 season 7/8, SGA season1; takes place after "Conversion

Chapter 1: Let Me Introduce Myself

"Tell me again this city exists. We're not really on some sort of cosmic wild goose chase."

"Trust me, Atlantis exists."

So began our good mornings. That morning started out as most mornings had for the past four months, if it had been that long. I don't think either of us were really keeping track of the days now. Life had been reduced to build a fire, boil water, find something, anything to eat, sleep for a few hours, get up, keep moving, keep searching, especially for what was it, two, three months? As I said, time, days, were irrelevant.

And all of this now was my fault. Or at least mostly my fault. I was on the run with another person, a major who might face charges of treason, who gave up a return ticket to Earth to save me.

Earth. I tried not to think about home in San Francisco, watching the fog roll in, listening to the Muni clatter by. That was another lifetime ago. I had been walking home from the lab one night, about to put the key in the door, when I was grabbed by two men.in black I fought, but I was no match for a syringeful of drugs. The next few days were a blur, I remember lots of needles, being strapped to a bed, just a general haze, like floating in a swimming pool, everything surreal. When I fully came to, I realized I was not on Earth, not even in my own galaxy. I had been kidnapped for the sake of some genetic sequence I possessed, a thought that still seemed absurd today, but that I slowly learned was quite sane. These were men serious enough to break laws to find some Ancient technology, serious to defy a government/ military entity known as Stargate Command, serious enough to bribe or kill anyone who stood in their path. They weren't happy with an agreement after the discovery of some Ancient outpost and its technology in Antarctica. And this Ancient technology was something that they thought I could lead them to, or at least access. That and I had the unfortunate luck of being someone easy to "recruit." Apparently, everyone else with this rare gene was either in the employ of the SGC, or under their watch. So I, Dr. Kyte Randall, was here in the Pegasus galaxy, like it or not.

We spent weeks looking for this Ancient technology. What little we did find, was columns of texts. I was usually told to touch stuff, pick it up. Nothing would happen, Dr. Lowell, the scientist in charge would rant, and one of the other scientists would make some excuse about the next time, like a gambler sure the next hand would be the next big score. Until that fateful day.

I awoke to Dr. Lowell arguing with Major Andrews, one of the marines usually assigned to guarding me. Dr. Lowell had made it known, very clearly, that any escape attempts would be dealt with. Harshly. I figures as much as they needed me, I made him and his colleagues nervous about what might actually happen if they found something.

"The girl's useless. Whoever thought she had the knowledge of the Ancients with that extended sequence was crazy."

"Maybe we just need more time? We haven't fully explored – how could we, with the time we've been given."

"Time is what we don't have now. With luck, we'll be able to make our pre-arranged meeting. If the Committee approves, maybe we'll get more time, but we also run the risk of meeting someone from Earth, or having one the local yokels report us to them. Do you want to spend time in a maximum security federal prison. Court martials for you and your men would be the least of your worries. Hammond and O'Neill would consider this treason. Getting back to Earth is not like buying a bus ticket. As I said, the girl is useless, one way or another. There's no way she can return with us, she'd compromise everything. If we had found something, that might be a different story –a cell somewhere where should work with the discoveries. Dispose of her," He spoke this last sentence as if he were talking about taking out the recycling

"Yes sir."

The next thing I knew, I and my pack were getting dragged into a deep, forested area. Somehow I tried to find the words to plead, the strength to run, but couldn't. I'm a fool, so much for the stories of bravery told in my family, the stubbornness that carried me from that small New York state town to a cross-country scholarship at Stanford, to grad school, to until recently, post-doc work.

"Are you ready to run?" he asked. Pulling me to my feet, a huge hand on my shoulder. Major Andrews was the type of guy you'd nickname "Bear," extremely broad shoulders, hands that dwarfed mine, Scandinavian coloring: blonde hair, blue eyes.

"Yes," I said without hesitation, craning my 5' frame to meet the blue eyes of his 6'5" frame.

"Good. Start. We're getting out of here."

"We…" I started, the stopped as he flashed me a look, as he started running to the gate. I took off after him, legs initially wobbly and protesting, soon easily meeting his stride after several seconds.

He gave a quizzical look. I smiled a quirky grin, followed with a "I'll explain later," look."

As soon as we were through the Gate, the major set about temporarily disabling the DHD, so his (and I guess my) former employers couldn't easily follow.

"Where'd you learn to run like that?" asked the major, slightly surprised that I'd kept up with him during the three mile run to the gate.

"How any girl who wants a new future gets out of a small town. All conference and state champion in the 5000m and 10,000m for 4 years. Colleges take notice. You leave and don't look back." Well, maybe that last part wasn't totally true. I loved my family and most of them understood my decision to leave. My dad especially. "Girlie," he'd say, "Fate has destined you for other things." I don't think to this day he understands what I do in the lab, but he understood I couldn't stay around in this little coal-mining town. Not that the mines were anyplace for a woman, or for that matter anyone who wanted a future.

That was maybe two months ago.


	2. Chapter 2 Just Another Day

Chapter 2: Just Another Day

Our goal was to find the crew of Atlantis. I thought it was a little crazy when I first heard it, and I still do to a certain degree. I mean you have to admit, a mythical lost city exists somewhere in another galaxy? Of course if you'd told me I'd be in a totally different galaxy and using wormholes to travel between planets like Caltrain stops six months ago, I'd have looked at you like you needed serious help. Of course, finding Atlantis and her crew was easier said than done. We didn't have a gate address, and even if we did, the major explained, there was probably a shield preventing just anyone from walking through and we didn't have a way to signal. Our best bet was to hope to run into one of their teams, while avoiding our former captors and employers. Not exactly a conducive situation, especially after we started exploring various planets and saw village after village and city after city in ruins, with no one around. It certainly gave both of us the creeps. Whoever could do that wasn't someone you'd want to run into in a dark alley.

Despite careful rationing, our limited food supplies soon ran out, since the major hadn't been able to take much when we made our break, and we were reduced to foraging. Luckily, both of had decent hunting and gathering skills, his from military training, mine from seasons when there was little work and too many mouths to feed. To this day I think some of my favorite memories were going out hunting with my dad, my four brothers, and various other male relatives. I think Major Andrews was a little surprised I was as comfortable as I was outdoors. I would have liked to be inside, in a bed and surrounded by take-out menus, but it also beat a bullet in the head. Sheer exhaustion soon took over as more nights than not, we filled out stomachs with hot water, tea if we were lucky to find something to boil. That I could handle, but sleep was fleeting as we worried about who or what might be out there, and neither of us allowed ourselves more than a few hours at a time. We both know if we ran into our old companions we'd be shot on sight, if we were lucky, and who knew if anyone we ran into might report us to them. The few dreams I had, were enough to wake me up in a cold sweat.

At first there were plenty of jokes about Fear Factor and Survivor, but the real reality soon set in. Entire days were spent in relative silence. Talking took effort, and there's only so much to talk about before you start telling the same story for the eighth time. There were certain issues we didn't discuss – basically anything to do with our lives back on Earth. The other subject I couldn't get the major to discuss was what had changed his mind. When I brought it up, there was a pained look in his eyes, and a distant, remorseful expression crossed his face. "I made a promise to someone," was all he'd say, with a glare that told me never to bring it up again. I didn't and he didn't press me further about my own past.

Anyhow, that morning started out as most mornings had for the past two months. I don't think any of us were really keeping track of the days now. Life had been reduced to build a fire, boil water, find something, anything to eat, sleep for a few hours, get up, keep moving, days were irrelevant. Life was a little brighter today, because we found some sort of waterfowl eggs, the first good protein in a couple days. Not enough, but at least enough to dull the hunger pangs.

"So Dr., when are you going to tell me why your parents named you Kyte?' asked Major Andrews.

That was one of the questions I had put in the category of "I'm not answering." He figured there was some interesting story to my name. There was, but I didn't feel like sharing.

"I'll tell you, either when we find Atlantis, or Cal admits they really lost Big Game," I joked to the man, who at least was from the East Bay. This little rivalry at least provided some amusement. He sighed and ran long fingers through hair that would never lay flat, even when unwashed for the weeks we'd been on the run.

"Try thinking positive," he suddenly snapped "We need to head out."

We fell into our usual solemn march, and trooped along, both lost in our own thoughts, until awe heard conversation. English. American slang. A signal from the major and I fell back into the brush, hoping this time…

From my perch, I could see four people, three men and a woman. Two of them appeared to be military, one in camouflage, the other in grey and black. The woman didn't appear to be military, still she walked with a cat-like grace. The other man brought up, or more precisely, lagged behind, complaining of hunger pains. All carried weapons. I heard safeties click.

"Identify yourselves," boomed Major Andrews stepped out, 9mm drawn.

Three of the four raised weapons to meet his. The apparent leader spoke.

"I'm Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, this is Major Lorne, Teyla, and Dr. Rodney McKay," spoke a dark haired man, indicating himself and his companions.

Andrews lowered his weapons. Slightly. I could see from the posture of his back he was both torn between relief and skepticism.

"From Atlantis?" spoke Andrews, his voice with an odd hoarseness.

"Yes?"

"You can come out now," whispered the major. "We've been searching for you. I'm Major Kris Andrews; this is Dr. Kyte Randall. We either came here or were brought here to search for Ancient technology by the Committee."

"The Committee?" the man identified as Lorne snapped.

"Yes. Tell Dr. Weir that Dr. Lowell was never satisfied with the agreements."

"You know of Dr. Weir?" asked Dr. McKay, a puzzled look on his face. Skepticism masked the faces of Sheppard and Lorne. The woman seemed to be taking it all in.

"Perhaps we should return to Atlantis and you can tell her in person?" she asked as if seeking to defuse and awkward situation.

"You don't know how long we've waited for that invitation," sighed Major Andrews. "You're going to owe me an explanation, Kyte," he added as aside.

I sighed. That appeared to be the least of my problems for now. The situation appeared to be tense and it appeared we were still at odds. Skepticism and silence hung heavy in the air and I was worried someone was going to start something. "Time for a little intervention." I pulled myself straighter and prepared to launch into bitchy mode. Not that I do it often, but it usually gets a response.

"Look, put us in cuffs or whatever. We can explain everything, whether it's from a conference room or a cell. I don't care. All I know is I'm supposed to be in San Fran in my molecular lab, being a good little post-doc. Instead I get kidnapped and hauled around some other galaxy because I have some ancient genetic sequence. I'm cold, tired and hungry. I want a hot shower, some coffee, and food that I didn't have to hunt down for starters. A pedicure be nice, too, if I'm not pushing my luck. Just about anything would beat the current situation." I glared at everyone. It worked.

You have the Ancient Gene?" asked McKay.

"So they keep telling me. Supposedly I also have a few more base pairs than I'm supposed to, associated with it. Either that or this some great joke," I continued in "my don't press your luck" tone.

"Fine, we'll take you back with us, but we'll have to collect your weapons, first. I don't like knowing that there are others from Earth here in Pegasus. I don't think Eliz – Dr. Weir will either," said Sheppard. I noticed his voice changed for a second. Interesting, but with his looks, I'm guessing that he could charm anyone. This Dr. Weir must be something else.

Lorne looked as if he wished he had a couple pairs of handcuffs, trying to keep his weapon trained on both of us.

Somehow a powerbar materialized in my hands and I was trying my best not to inhale it in one gulp. I shot McKay a grateful look, although the look that met mine was one momentary regret. I guessed this was a little out of character for him.

"It's about 2km to the gate over and down those hills," started Sheppard, scanning the surroundings with binoculars. "Oh hell, Wraith…"


	3. Chapter 3 Run Like Hell

Chapter 3: Run Like Hell

"Wraith?" asked Major Andrews, a puzzled look on his face.

"Nasty aliens that will literally suck the life and soul out of you," shivered McKay.

"Ruach," I couldn't help but add. Seeing a few puzzled looks, "Hebrew. Means Breath/life/Soul." I shrugged.

"They have destroyed many of the civilizations here," added Teyla.

"We've been at war with them and we don't need them to find us. Luckily it looks like there's only a half dozen, on foot. That still might make getting to he gate difficult…" Sheppard continued.

I looked over the landscape and an idea began forming in my mind. It was one of my risky, spur of the moment plans, but it would buy everyone time and perhaps myself a little credibility. Considering what I fled from and what I could be facing, I felt I had nothing to lose. I took off my pack and jacket, then knelt and unlaced my boots, pulling them off along with my socks, wincing a little at the scent. No laundry service for a while is not fun to experience for the nose. I had a brief thought of picking up tetanus from the ground, but if I was going to pull off what I wanted to, I needed sure footing and I could best trust myself barefoot

"What are you doing?" asked Lorne as he noticed, or more likely smelled the socks and boots on the ground.

"I can help. I just need to lighten my load and oh, I'll need a couple grenades if you have them. Or something explosive."

"What are you planning?" Sheppard turned to me, not quite understanding.

"I'm bait. I figure I can distract them while you make a run for it. I figure if I can get them to follow down that ridge, I can trigger a rockslide halfway through. That should slow them down. I don't wear your uniform," I added as I looked at my filthy fatigues and T-shirt.

I still got a couple skeptical looks. "Anyone have a better idea? If you have any doubts, ask Andrews about my running ability." They must seen the look in my eyes – something fierce and primal – that ended any protests, or maybe they figured I was crazy, anyway if I didn't make, I was one less explanation.

I was handed two grenades as Major Andrews picked up the things I dropped. I pulled the pins, which I handed to Sheppard. Teyla was giving me an odd expression – a mix of concern and understanding. McKay looked nervous.

"Go," I said. "Either on my shield or without it," I added, as I took off in the direction Sheppard had indicated. Everyone else started running towards the gate.

I wasn't sure if I'd have to yell to get the attention of the Wraith, but they noticed me soon enough. Good God, they were the stuff of nightmares from my childhood – the ghost stories my grandmother used to tell seemed pretty tame in comparison. I must have been the biggest idiot in this galaxy, maybe two galaxies to do what I have volunteered to do. I pushed fear aside and concentrated on leading them a ridge and down the rocky path. For a few moments snatches of the mixes I used to run to, "Eye of the Tiger, Run Like Hell, Born to Run, Big Gun," flittered through my brain. I'd be singing along, off-key if I could, but all I could think about was a certain point down the ridge

"Relax, I told myself, you're back home, just going for a fast run over the Armstrong's hills." I felt rocks and branches scratch at my feet, as I half ran, half slid, but that was the least of my worries. Despite what I thought was a fast pace, the Wraith were gaining. Damn. I looked behind me and lobbed the first grenade. A moment later I heard a growing cascade of rocks and plenty of what I assumed was cursing. "Thanks, Da for the lessons on explosives and triggering cave-ins," I thought. I had managed to lose all but one of the Wraith in the chaos. Unfortunately the one remaining appeared to be armed. Heavily armed

I finished racing down the hill and looked at the Gate, which was open. I could see figures rushing through. Good. I concentrated on crossing the grassy plain as fast as possible, aware that I was in the open. For a second, I convinced myself I wasn't in the fields of my hometown, pounding out the miles in the plan to escape. A sudden weapons burst, too close for comfort, reminded me where I really was. I dug deep, deep in that well of complete desperation and ran faster than I thought possible or perhaps ever had. "Please don't let me trip," I thought as I hit the steps to the Gate.

Suddenly I was in a large room, comically skidding across hard floors, remembering to clear the perimeter of the ring, and heard some sort of slam, followed by a couple of thumps.

I looked around to see two dozen or so people, looking expectantly at me. I suddenly felt very self-conscious, I was muddy, bloody, sweaty, my hair working its way out of its braid, and panting raggedly, with a grenade still clenched in a fist white with tension. The look on Andrews's face made me want to laugh, or a least smile. Somehow I could read that he found me transposed as some sort of Celtic warrior. I think there may have been several others thinking that as well, but the look on most faces was of either disbelief or concern

"Well, Randall, I think you were a little off your best pace, but I think that can be forgiven under the circumstances. I might have to take those legends of Highland fighters a little more seriously," he grinned.

"Yeah, well, you're forgetting who saved civilization…" I started before a coughing fit overtook me and I bent over with the effort. "

"Easy lass." Hands put a blanket around me, pulled me upright, pushed an oxygen mask against my face, as I struggled to catch my breath and control my racing heart. I pushed it aside, fighting, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

"I think this belongs to someone." I held the grenade straight out, blanket falling from one shoulder. Strong hands curled over mine, removing the grenade, keeping the firing mechanism in place.

"I've got it, " one of the marines said. "What the heck were you planning…" his voice trailed off as he realized the answer. If needed, I'd buy time with my life. Besides, I still didn't like the idea of not being at the top of the food chain.

The realization of what I'd done hit me, as exhaustion set in and the flood of adrenaline receded. The room seemed to spin and the floor appeared to be approaching a lot faster than it should. Strong hands caught me, the mask more insistent this time and I greedily gulped the air as I was helped to a gurney, like a sleepy child.

"Just relax lass," spoke a doctor next me. His Scottish lilt had a soothing tone to it and his eyes were kind. "You've done enough fighting for a while.

The exhaustion receded for a moment as I realized the new situation I was in. Just because I was in Atlantis didn't mean anything, yet. Vague memories of numerous tests, pain, screams and silence floated unbidden to the surface. I tried to sit up, to stand, to run again if necessary. As much as I wanted to, I still wasn't completely sure I could trust everyone, despite putting my life on the line for these people.

A tall dark-haired woman strode into my field of view. I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir. Don't worry, you're safe here. Dr. Beckett and his team will take good care of you." She noticed me shudder involuntarily, and as if to reassure me, squeezed my hand. "We won't do anything to you, without your consent. Major Andrews told me about Dr. Lowell." I relaxed slightly. "You know the drill, people," she continued to the crowd, "Colonel, you and your team report to the infirmary. We'll conference in an hour."

There were a few protests from the voice I identified as McKay. A tall bald man in an officer's uniform spoke, somewhat sarcastically, "This will be an interesting meeting. And what about our renegades? When will you debrief them?"

When," started Dr. Weir.

"When I say so," finished Dr. Beckett. "They're both in shock, especially the lass, I don't think a Q&A session is in either of their best interest." I think I could like the guy already, even if he was a doctor.


	4. Chapter 4 Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight

A/N: Usual disclaimer – I only own Kyte Randall and Major Andrews, I'm just borrowing the major characters.

Chapter 4: Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight

I felt my gurney roll a short distance, as I fought to stay awake. The run had taken a lot out of me, given the shape I was in, not to mention the realization of how I had dared death, but staying awake seemed important. Teyla fell in step beside me.

"Kyte, you are very brave, but what you did, some would call very foolish. Still I and the others are grateful."

I pushed the oxygen mask aside. "Sometimes I just act without thinking…." I started.

Dr. Beckett put the mask back in place. "Seems like there's a lot of that going around here," he said in a scolding tone. We're here. I need to run some tests on you and your friend, and then we can start patching ye up. I'm guessing what you need most is food and sleep, aye, and those are certainly easy enough to prescribe."

I was briskly transferred to a bed, and put through something similar to a CAT scan. When that was finished, Dr. Beckett glanced at the results, "Your breathing and heart rate are almost back to normal, you're a little dehydrated and definitely mal-nourished, and you've got a low-grade infection from exposure, same as your friend the Major. I need to draw some blood to double-check a few things," he added pushing up my sleeve, before I could protest.

You almost sound cheerful about that," I winced slightly as he stuck the needle in. I guessed that my and Andrews' situation was a little more serious than he let on. I was no doctor, but I knew he was concerned about exposure and the amount of weight we'd both apparently lost.

"See, good patient," Beckett lectured to Sheppard and McKay sitting nearby. I gave them a look to say, I didn't usually put up with all this. "With all that happens around here, its nice to practice basic medicine," he commented. I didn't want to ask what did happen, but figured life here was not boring.

Curtains were drawn and I was handed a gown. I glared, but shrugged, since I knew I had no choice

"I know you'd like a shower, but a clean gown and a couple of washcloths will have to do now, " apologized a medic as she helped pull off the clothing I had been wearing for the last few months. I was suddenly more than a little attached to them, as they were gathered up. Yes, they were filthy, but they were a known.

"By the way, you friend fainted when Dr. Beckett went to draw blood."

I smirked, "Men." She smiled conspiratorially.

Curtains were drawn back and in rapid succession I was hooked to various monitors for heart rate, blood pressure and the like. No easy escape now.

Looks likes I'm staying here for the night. How's room service?" I quipped as Dr. Beckett walked over to start an IV.

He raised an eyebrow, not sure if I was teasing. "

We'll see later," he said as he taped the needle in place. "For now, these will have to do," he continued, hanging several bags. "Yer certainly handling all this better than most, which makes ye my favorite patient. Now get some rest."

With praise like that, I thought I could at least try and close my eyes for a moment…


	5. Chapter 5 Keep Talking

Chapter 5: Keep Talking

A/N: Thanks for the reviews – and comments. It's a nice little break from the real world writing I have to do. I wish I could claim Kyte is my alter-ego, but that wouldn't be fair to her. This gets a little dark in places, and I must admit I had to do some re-writng, or it's be a bit too much, although some things could always surface later.

Dr. Weir sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. Life had certainly gotten interesting less than an hour ago, but maybe that was just par for the course in Atlantis. It certainly seemed that way. For once she'd like to have Sheppard and his team have an uneventful mission, although the fact that they'd come back uninjured and with two additional people, could be considered an improvement.

She didn't know what to make of her guests, though, The tall blond major had come through the Gate, spotted her and said Dr. Lowell and team were in the galaxy looking for Ancient technology. He and a girl with the Ancient gene had escaped from them and been searching for Atlantis for the last few months.

Dr. Lowell. That name brought back memories. The two of them had handled a few negotiations together, but she always sure he wasn't the most impartial in the field, and he certainly had his special interest groups. If he were here, then there were some powerful and wealthy forces at work, apparently with strings to pull at SGC.

Then the girl had burst through, a force to be reckoned with, by all appearances. Well, girl probably wasn't the right term. She was petite, skinny, dirty, and by all appearances to trying to hang onto her sanity. One look at her haunted eyes said it all, but there was something else there too, she couldn't quite put her finger on. Caldwell had immediately summed up the entire situation and decided they were dangerous.

As if on cue, Col. Caldwell, strode into the conference room, all business. "Dr Weir, I demand that you place guards in the infirmary. Those two are dangerous."

"They are a couple of tired and probably scared humans from Earth, who have been on the run…"

"And you quickly forget the girl took on a half-dozen Wraith, and didn't seem to fear dying in the process."

"I understand your concern. Two marines, that's it. I'm sure Dr. Beckett has the situation under control." And they're probably asleep, by now, anyhow," she thought silently

"I'd also like permission to search their belongings."

"I don't think you'll find much, but…" her voice trailed off as he was already repeating orders into his radio.

She was grateful there was no further silence as Lorne, Sheppard, and McKay walked in. Sheppard and Lorne seemed to be teasing McKay about something as usual.

"Hey, Dr. Weir, you learn something new everyday," chuckled Lorne.

"Yeah," interrupted Sheppard, "We learned that Rodney does know how to share," laughed Sheppard. "What was it, did you decide there someone grouchier than you in this universe?"

"It was empathy, nothing more," replied Rodney, scowling. "I merely thought about how I'd feel in their situation. Besides, I thought rescuing damsels in distress was your area, Col. Sheppard?"

I'm not sure she'd put herself in the 'wanting to be rescued' category. Ronon will be disappointed to have missed seeing someone out-run the Wraith," mused Sheppard.

"Dr. Beckett said he'd be joining the meeting shortly," announced Teyla as joined the group.

"Good. Let's start," said Dr. Weir firmly. It was a pretty short meeting; there wasn't much to discuss other than the two new arrivals.

"Sorry, I'm late. I wanted to double-check some results from our guests," interrupted Dr. Beckett as he walked in and sat down.

Caldwell glared at him at the word "guest."

The doctor ignored him and continued, "They're both in fairly serious shape, suffering from dehydration, malnutrition, exposure, and exhaustion. A few more weeks and…well, they'll need to take it easy for a wee bit."

"What were you double-checking, Carson,' asked Dr. Weir with a note of concern.

"The lass has the Ancient gene, all right, but that's not the half of it. I ran the tests twice myself, the doctor continued, looking more serious than usual. " Her gene sequence is longer than usual." Seeing the puzzled looks around him, he attempted to explain, "Gene sequences are like a computer code. When a gene is on, certain, specific things happen. Dr. Randall has several l extra lines of 'code' associated with the gene. I don't know if this sequence is active, or what it does. All I know is the sequence is too long and added at too precise a location to occur by a natural act like mutation. Someone or something introduced it into her or an ancestor's genetic sequence."

The six people in the conference room sat in stunned silence for several long minutes.

Dr. Weir was the first to speak. "There's something more, isn't there Carson?"

"This is more Dr. Heightmeyer's area, but I'm guessing the she may have some issues to resolve from all this. Major Andrews, too. He's got some very old, healed wounds and his back is a mess of scars," finished Dr. Beckett.

Col. Caldwell seemed determined to have the last word. "I'd like to have a copy of the Dr. Randall's DNA sequence. Maybe Hermiod can have an Asgaard scientist take a look, when we get back to Earth. Given what General O'Neill has been through twice, with the Ancient databases, she could possess some sort of bridge between our evolutionary state and their knowledge."

"Yes, maybe the Asgaard can shed some light on the situation, but for now, both of our guests are staying here," said Dr. Weir, with a quiet firmness. "If there are people looking for them, Atlantis may be the safest place

"Don't you understand, she could be the key to it all?" persisted Caldwell.

"I'm sure someone used that as justification before, if she was an unwilling participant in this search." Dr. Weir responded with ice in her voice. Sheppard and others knew to stay out of this, especially the Lt. Col. Some things Dr. Weir took seriously, like the Geneva Convention and not destroying solar systems.

"I'm just saying you don't know what she is capable of, hell I bet even she doesn't know what she is capable of."

"Which is why Atlantis is the best place for her. If the Ancients engineered her, or someone in her family, this is her city," concluded Dr. Weir. "I'm sending a report to Stargate Command, along with my recommendations. You're welcome to do the same. At the least, General Landry will not be amused to hear there are others from Earth here."

"I'll do that, Dr. I think this meeting is adjourned."

Dr. Weir was impressed and a little nervous with the speed with which Stargate Command had responded. The ZPM from the Antarctica outpost had gone unaccounted for a week, apparently originally classified as "misfiled." All they needed was that, a cargo ship, and another stargate. She guessed there was an investigation underway to who had "borrowed" the ZPM.

She sighed and turned her attention to the two personnel files SGC had sent, trying to reconcile the files with the people now in the infirmary. Major Andrews' file was short and a bit of a mystery. He was from Texas, but there were no details before his 16th birthday, or what he decided his birthday was. Graduated high school near the top of class, political science major at UC Berkeley, then enlisted in the marines, with the usual postings, honors, and the like, until approximately 8 months ago. Apparently he'd been assigned to a special classified unit, presumably the organization now in Pegasus. "What had caused him to turn," she wondered. "Who was he in those early years?"

Dr. Randall's file was a little thicker. Born in a small New York State mining town, population 634, last of five children. On the all state and all conference cross country championship teams in the 5000m and 10,000m four years straight, two at the local public high school, two at a nearby private school, graduated top of her class. Cross-country scholarship at Stanford, division championship team all four years, while majoring in molecular biology and minoring in particle physics. Worked for a year in a physics research lab, then went back for PhD in molecular biology, and continued onto a post-doc. Reported missing by a roommate six months ago. Pictures and newsclippings: all describing a brilliant, funny, driven woman. "I'll agree with the brilliant and driven part," thought Dr. Weir, "the rest remains to be seen," although one last item caught her eye – numerous speeding tickets – seemed Dr. Randall had a fondness for taking her Ducati motorcycle out on a couple of freeways in the middle of the night and seeing how fast she could take the turns. "Sheppard would love this," Weir grinned.


	6. Chapter 6 Better Now ?

Chapter 6: Better now

A/N: I originally planned this to be a little lighter, but after reading Dr. Dredd's "Moral Compass" Thanks for a couple good perspectives. I decided to let Carson be a little less sensitive. Yes, Kyte has a few issues. I'll try and let her clear up a couple here and in the next chapter.

Coffee…The smell of coffee woke me, something I'd been missing for too long. I rolled over to turn off the alarm, or at least tried to. I realized I wasn't at home and sat bolt upright. Not outside, in bed, warm, as the previous day's events washed over me.

"Sorry, said the same medic from the previous night. "Let me guess, you're one of those people who use their coffeemaker as an alarm clock?"

"Yep," I said as she handed me a mug of the steaming brew. I took a sip and savored the taste.

"I have something else," she said handing over some clothing. These might be a little better, after you've had a shower. We managed to salvage and wash a few things from your pack, but we figured you might want a fresh shirt and pants.

"Thanks," I said, " fingering the long sleeve black t-shirt and grey pants.

Wires were removed and the IV disconnected, but the needle itself wasn't removed. Instead plastic dressing went over that.

Dr. Beckett will probably want to run another course of antibiotics and fluids.

Let's just say that was one of the best showers in my life. Hot water, high water pressure, need I say more?

I was sitting in lotus position in a bed, nursing my coffee, and trying not to wolf down toast and egg substitutes. It's a universal constant, I think, hospital food is hospital food, but after what I'd eaten lately it wasn't too bad. I'd left my hair unbraided and I realized it was longer than I usually let it get. I should find someone to cut it, I thought, idly.

A marine walked in and Dr. Beckett met him in the doorway. They spoke briefly and he gestured in my direction.

"Feel like attending a meeting?" asked the sergeant. It wasn't exactly a request and I had a momentary flash of being sent to the principal's office. However, it would be nice to see some place outside the infirmary. We walked through a rapid succession of corridors in silence. Something nagged at the back of my mind, I felt like I knew the layout of this place, like I'd flipped through the blueprints at some point. Before I had time to ponder the significance of this further, we arrived at a large conference room, already filled with people, an apparent mix of military and scientists, a few I recognized from the previous day. The woman who had identified herself as Dr. Weir spoke, "Don't worry, this isn't an inquisition."

I allowed myself a brief smile. "I wasn't thinking of the Inquisition. I was thinking of my dissertation defense." All the PhD types laughed.

Dr. Weir smiled at this. "Have a seat. I hope you are feeling better?"

"I nodded in response to her question. "A shower, some sleep, and coffee definitely help. To quote Macbeth," Sleep doth knit the ravel'd sleeve of care,'" I smiled.

Col. Sheppard was sitting next to her and passed me a cup of coffee across the table, as he gave me a quick appraising once-over. The look was a one of pleasant surprise, I clean up well, and every boyfriend I've ever has rhapsodized about my reddish blonde hair – honey, pennies, grain fields, you get the picture. That's why I usually braided it, that and to keep it out of my face in the lab. I blushed slightly and started fiddling with the cuffs of my shirt. Introductions went around and tried to remember names and faces.

"I'm Col. Caldwell, " spoke the tall, bald man I'd seen yesterday, ending any minor conversations. "Do you mind answering a few questions?"

"No sir," I said, meeting his eyes. Somehow I got the idea this meeting was Dr. Weir's idea, but he'd be the one running it, and not answering any questions would only lead to trouble.

"You're originally from New Edinburgh, New York?"

"Yes, it's a little company mining town. Blink and you'll miss it, but it's a place to come from. I even worked for the company part-time. Not with the excavation, but I'd help my dad prepare and set the charges. I'm very good with explosives, you have to be, when lives depend on your decisions."

A few of the military types nodded with either approval or disapproval of this skill set.

Dr. McKay and Dr. Zalenka appeared to exchange conspiratorial glances.

Dr. Weir sighed inwardly. The two would probably be recruiting her as a new ally in their pranks against Dr. Kavanagh.

"How'd you get out to California?" continued Caldwell.

"I got a cross-country scholarship to Stanford. I was all-conference and all-state in high school, schools took notice. Stanford was the best," I answered with a shrug, remembering my parents' protests, their hope I'd stay closer to home.

"Why cross-country?" Caldwell persisted.

"I had four older brothers to keep up with, so running was natural. I realized that if I wanted to leave home, I had to stand out, colleges don't notice smart kids in little schools, besides they don't tease smart kids if they're jocks," I answered a little more angrily than I wanted, almost daring him to open some old wounds. There was more, but I didn't feel like sharing. Being smart in a small town is lonely, especially when you realize at 12 that there's a world out there you need to see, but are torn between desire and family. Cross-country is the perfect sport for the lonely.

Dr Weir seemed to sense something and decided to interject. "Dr. Beckett showed me your test results. You have the Ancient gene." I nodded. She continued, "A few other people here, like Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett also have the gene, and others like Dr. McKay carry a genetically engineered version that Dr. Beckett developed.

"Nice. I mean to genetically engineer a human gene, and I assume get it to work…did you have to worry about promoters, what'd you use for an insertion sequence," I interrupted as I saw Dr. Beckett enter the room, curiosity getting the better me.

Sheppard had a slightly amused, "great, another geek look," and shot Beckett a "you can talk shop after I leave," look.

Dr Beckett picked up, "The odd thing lass, is you have an extra sequence, like extra computer code for a program. We don't have a clue what this sequence is for, but we're all very curious. We'd like to find out what you can do."

For a few moments, panic washed over me. Part of me wanted to scream, part of me wanted to flee, as images of blood and lab tests came to the surface, Dr. Lowell calmly explaining things as I was held down…. The decision to flee won.

'I will not be your guinea pig," I yelled, suddenly on my feet, fighting past shocked marines. I just wanted to get out here and hide for a little while. "What the hell did you get yourself into, Kyte Randall. Out of the frying pan and into the fire?" I thought as headed to the most isolated part of the city I could remember.

"That went rather well, didn't it," asked Col Caldwell.

A/N 2: I wasn't sure what Kyte could do, but thanks to William Gibson's Count Zero for a little inspiration.


	7. Chapter 7 And Heaven is Overrated

Chapter 7: And Heaven Is Overrated.

A/N: I thought I'd wrap a couple things here. It's a little dark, but all will resolve itself. For everyone who has commented Col. Caldwell, seems cold, well, …

"Dr. Randall doesn't seem to showing up on any of the sensors, as far as I can tell," said one of the techs in Gate room to a worried Dr. Weir. "You don't think she…"

"No, she doesn't strike as that type. Is Major Andres available? Maybe he can shed some light on the situation. I'd like to clear up a few things with him as well."

Caldwell, Sheppard, McKay, and Beckett were all gathered back in the conference, all looking at each other uneasily, when Major Andrews arrived, flanked by two marines. From the looks on their faces, she guessed that they would have preferred to have Ronon along, given the major's bulk. He seemed to take up most of the space in the room, especially when glowered.

"Have a seat, Major," suggested Dr. Weir. "We need your help. Dr. Randall has taken off and we're afraid we've upset her."

"What did you do," he growled, rising out of his chair. "If you hurt her, you'll be answering to me." The two scientists seemed to shrink back.

"I'd lay even money on him and Ronon in a cage match," thought Col. Sheppard silently, appraising his guard dog nature. "Dr. Beckett mentioned the fact that she had the Ancient gene, plus an extra sequence and said we were curious about what it meant," he spoke, trying to calm him down.

"You have no idea," said the major softly. "You didn't think the Committee tried to find out already? I was there, I had to watch, while they took her to the point of death, trying to discover something, I couldn't save her then, but at least I saved her…" his voice trailed off.

"There was someone else, wasn't there?" Dr Weir spoke almost in a whisper, her voice filled with concern.

The man nodded. "She reminds me of my sister, years ago. We grew up in a commune, no outside influences; fear the government, what have you. My father arranged for my sister to marry a friend, said it was her destiny. The man was thirty years older than her, already had a wife. We tried to run, got caught and brought back. My father quoted something about the disobedience of one's children and proceeded to beat us. When I woke up, she was dead, and I'd been left for dead. I promised myself if I made it, I'd devote my life to saving others. "

There was a brief silence, a pause for reflection. Col. Caldwell and Lt. Col. Sheppard met the major's eyes. They'd both been there, in one-way or another.

"You tried. That's what counts," said Caldwell softly.

"The major answered him. "She probably went to the highest, most isolated point in the city. She mentioned once she would have liked to sit on top of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"I think I know where she went," said Sheppard getting to his feet.

"I'm with you," said Caldwell. Dr. Weir could swear there was an odd note in his voice.

She was in the predicted spot, on one of the balconies overlooking the city and the water, chin resting on crossed arms, propping herself on the railing. She looked so lost, so defeated.

I saw him step onto to the balcony. "Come to drag me back for some new experiments?" I asked with as much bitterness as I could muster. "If the answer's yes, I'll make it easier on both of us and jump."

With the wind playing with her hair, she looked so much like Annie. Before. He wished he could take back everything, make everything all right again.

"No. Dr Beckett and everyone else are curious, but we're not going to do anything. Dr. Weir promised, remember? You may have more claim to this city than anyone else here."

"Promises don't mean much. What people say and what people do are two entirely different things sometimes."

"You can trust her. You can trust everyone here. You must have felt that on some level, or you wouldn't have done what you did two days ago, taking on those Wraith."

"Trust and faith are two of the hardest things to define, to comprehend. All my life I've been fighting, people's expectations, people's perceptions. My family has been in the same area for 350 years. I'm practically related to everyone in town. No one, except maybe my dad could understand why I didn't want to stay. Always had to prove myself. Didn't want to be just the Randall's only daughter, first girl born in the family in three generations. Didn't want to be just the scholarship athlete in college. I was competing academically against kids who had gone to the best prep schools in the country. Who was I? I had to be faster, smarter, better. My dad understood. My mom said he told the rest of the family not to let me know how sick he was, when I was busy with comprehensives. They didn't tell me he died until I called to tell them I had passed, that I had my doctorate. I could have taken the time off, I should have," my voice quavered a little. "I will not cry, I will not cry," I repeated silently. "I know my demons. I've even named them," I added.

"It's ok. He believed in you. Really believed in you. Like I should have believed in Annie " he added silently."

"I miss him so much."

He thought about the father-daughter bond for a moment, then put a hand on her shoulder, felt her relax slightly.

"This city is doing something to me. I don't know what, but I think I can recall every corridor of this city. I can't explain it. All I can think of is one of the legends in my family, something my dad used to tell me when I couldn't sleep or was upset at one of my brothers."

"What?"

"Blessed are the daughters of Randall, for they possess the knowledge of the ages. I always thought it was something to do with druid or goddess worship."

They were both silent for a few moments. "Given what's happened, it put things in a whole new light. Strange inheritance."

He permitted himself a smile. "That might qualify as the understatement of the year."

I laughed, in spite of myself. "Oh yeah."

He waited a few moments. "Are you ready to go back? I promise I will stand guard, until you feel comfortable in this city with everyone."

"Yes, but everyone must think I'm a complete flake."

He snorted, "You can't be serious. You haven't met someone of the people here, trust me."

Col. Caldwell kept his word. It took a little convincing, but I went back to Dr. Beckett and the infirmary after I told Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett, Dr. McKay, and Col. Sheppard about seeing the city as I had. After a quick meeting everyone agreed Atlantis was the best place for me, besides I was a well-educated scientist and there was always room for someone who could handle both physics and biology. (I think Dr. McKay muttered something about overachievers.)

My only disappointment was not being able to send messages home to my family and friends. Dr Weir and Col Caldwell agreed with the influence of the Committee, they couldn't risk letting the organization know Major Andrews and I were here in Atlantis.

"We'll let them know you've been seen alive," compromised Caldwell. "Make up a list of the things you want and I'll have them removed from evidence or storage. I'm sure I can assign an airman to pick up anything else you might need, when the Daedalus returns to Earth.

I have to admit my quarters were bigger than my place back on Earth. It wasn't the Pacific, but I could pretend. Besides do you how much ocean front property rents for in California?

A few days later in his quarters aboard the Daedalus, Col. Caldwell, pulled out a small photo from his desk. "I'm sorry Annie," he spoke to the photo. "I know you're out there."


End file.
